


His blue suit or none at all

by fineandwittie



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Barebacking, Exposure, Humiliation, M/M, Overstimulation, Porn, Public Nudity, Public Sex, Sexy Times, Spanking, and Pro did say Oliver was secretly timid or shy sooooo, probably a whole lot more, somewhat ooc, technically he isn't underaged since the age of consent in italy is 14 and Elio is 17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 17:43:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13552413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fineandwittie/pseuds/fineandwittie
Summary: Straight up porn, guys.Elio and Oliver are with the gang on the lake, when Oliver falls prey to an impulse he can't control. He doesn't really want to anyway.





	His blue suit or none at all

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd and unedited.
> 
> Wet dreams all around.

The impulse for me to embarrass Elio in front of his friends was not one I’d ever entertained before, though I did fiercely enjoy the sight of his blush. However, the idea of him nude in front of the others, now that was something I’d entertained quite frequently.

Especially after seeing Marzia and Chiara sitting on opposite ends of the couch with Elio sprawled across their laps. I’d shut myself into my bedroom upstairs after I’d backed out of the room without them noticing I’d entered it. I’d collapsed onto the bed and stuck my hand down my shorts. 

In my mind I could see Marzia, in her sundress, and Chiara in her tank and shorts, exactly as they were now, but the Elio between them was nude and pink-cheeked over it. The girls would tease him, Chiara even reaching out and running a teasing fingertip over his cock. It would deepen the blush and make him squirm between them. He’d move to cover his cock and balls, but Marzia would grab his hands and hold them. “Turn over,” Marzia would murmur into his ear with a laugh and he would obey, if only to be able to hide his face. But that would leave his ass exposed to the air and the girl’s eyes, the pale rounded globes of it. Chiara would grin at Marzia and then bring her hand, open palmed, down across his bare skin. The spank would make him yelp. Maybe he’d flail and fall from their laps, landing spread eagle on the carpets. Maybe the yelp would bring Mafalda into the room and his embarrassment would be complete. Or maybe not. Maybe he’d yelp and Marzia would fit a hand over his mouth and Chiara would spank him again. And again. And again. Over and over until the flesh of his ass was blushing as badly as his face, looking like an overripe peach. The girls would let him up then and he’d dress, scrubbing at the tear tracks the spanking had produced. Or maybe he’d simply stumble from the room, unable to bear it any longer and fighting the urge to once again cover himself, even though it was far too late for that. And later when he tried to sit down for dinner, he would squirm and flush and squirm and Marzia would just smirk at him.

With those images in my head, I came harder than I had in months.

That was the only explanation I can offer. I'd never had a dream like it before, never imagined myself in such a roll, and yet, I woke up from it, panting and sticky with cum. I stared down at my crotch in disbelief. I hadn't cum in my sleep, hadn't had such a wet dream, since I was in high school. I had thought myself beyond such things, but the evidence was staring undeniably at me...How was I going to explain the filthy sheets to Mafalda?

The dream had been so vivid, like a memory of yesterday.

We were horsing around in the water at the Berm, like everyone else. Marzia and Chiara were laying out in what little sun there was on the shore, up on their elbows and calling out to us occasionally. Matteo and a few of the other boys were swimming or wrestling in the water. I’d picked Elio up, hoisted him over my shoulder, and was refusing to let him escape.

It struck me like a blow. The impulse, which I surrendered to, to reach up and yanked his suit down to his ankles, exposing the cheeks of his ass to anyone who cared to look. He jerked and bucked, trying to stop me, but all his movements did was fling his suit across the pond and into the reeds where it promptly sunk out of view. His bare cock was pressed against my shoulder and I wondered if his balls were visible through the gap between his thighs. I wanted to reach up and spank him myself, as Chiara had done in my fantasy, just to see that pale skin blush. 

Marzia wolf-whistled at us.

Elio was squirming, trying to break free, but I was stronger and larger than he was. Escape was unlikely. Each movement jiggled the flesh of his ass and brought more attention to us. He was getting hard against my shoulder. I could feel the heat of his cock pressing into my flesh and I wondered, if I shifted him just a little, could he fuck into the space under my armpit, where my bicep were pressed close to my body? Would he want to? With the others watching, could he cum?

The very idea of it thrilled me. My cock was beginning to fatten inside my suit, though thankfully not enough to be noticeable. I flexed my shoulder, feeling him move against me. He would buck soon, I knew. The others would think it was another attempt to escape, but I knew better. He wouldn’t be able to help it.

Finally, in a desperate attempt to get some of his own back, he stuck his hand down the back of my shorts and sank a single finger inside me. I was still slick with Vaseline from this morning and I wasn’t expecting it. I jerked, but still didn’t drop him. If anything my grip tightened. If he kept doing that, I would be fully hard in moments and I told him so, in a low hiss.

He laughed and I could feel his shrug. “Then you shouldn’t have started a game you couldn’t win. You’re the gambler here, you should know that.”

I growled. “And you should know better than to bet against the house.”

What he couldn’t see was Marzia making her way toward us through the water. I grinned.

He slipped a second fingers into me and circled my prostate. My hips twitched. The water came up to my waist, so no one on the shore could see, but Marzia wasn’t on the shore and I knew the moment she spotted it. I was tenting the swin trunks, hard from Elio’s playing, and there was nothing I could do to hide it. The very thought made me harder.

To try and warn him or at least force him to take his fingers out of me, I did reach up and slap him across those so temptingly exposed ass cheeks.

“You two think you are subtle. You aren’t. Elio, take your hands out of there.” I’m sure she meant my suit and not my body, but I couldn’t help the flush that crawled up my face. 

Elio jerked his hands away as though he’d been burned, but he didn’t soften against my shoulder.

I thought that Marzia would maybe tease Elio or tell me to put him down so he could find his suit, but instead she sidled right up to me and tucked her hands into my waistband. “Time to level the playing field.”

“No, Marzia—“ I made a belated dodge backwards, but instead of succeeding in shaking her off, all it did was rip my suit. 

The fabric was old and it’d been falling apart already. I often wore it around Elio because of how short it was, how much it showed off. I wished, then, that I’d simply thrown it away or I wanted to wish that. 

She stepped away with the front half of my suit in her hands and I could hear Elio’s choked laughter as the other half floated away from my body.

I was as nude as Elio and more exposed because at least his erection was hidden from view. I had no such protection. 

Marzia grinned, gave my hard cock a quick stroke, and walked away.

I stood, clinging to Elio still over my shoulder and staring. When she reached the shore, she whispered something to Chiara who glanced over at me with a wicked smile. The two gathered up all our things and called for the others. The whole lot of them tumbled out of the water and left, in a flurry of activity. Taking our towels and shirts and bikes with them.

Elio and I were both naked with no hope of finding clothing and now we were going to have to walk back to the villa. I wasn’t sure which would have been more humiliating: walking the two miles back naked or biking it that way.

I had a brief image of trying to sit on the bike, ass stretched and open from Elio’s playing, cock hard, balls heavy against the seat. I squirmed at the thought.

Setting Elio back on his feet meant him sliding the length of my body, his erection gliding hotly over my chest to brush my own.

He went up on tiptoes to murmur in my ear. “Go stand by that tree, hands up to brace yourself. I’m going to fuck you. Right here, out in the open, where anyone might see. Maybe Chiara and Marzia will come back or Matteo. He wants you, you know. Do you think he’d cum, just from seeing you taking it? Seeing you beg me for it?”

I shuddered, trying to hold in a whimper, and did as I was told. The water near the trees was shallower, leaving my aching cock above the waterline, exposed to the breeze. I’d never felt anything so erotic. 

Elio, when he finally followed me, gave me no warning. He slipped his cock into me, easy as you please, until his balls rested against the flesh of my ass. Then he paused and simply waited.

I knew what he wanted. But we weren’t in our room, hidden by darkness. We were in a pond, outside in the bright sun, too close to the road. I couldn’t beg. I couldn’t risk being heard.

But Elio had more self-control in this than he had any right to at his age. More than I did. He waited. Spearing me open, but not giving me any release. It felt like nothing I’d ever experienced before. The idea that my body was merely warming his cock. He wasn’t moving, he wasn’t fucking me, he wasn’t seeking release. He was simply standing behind me, letting my body hold him.

I whined, high pitched and desperate, but it made no difference. 

Finally it was too much. I was too full. I couldn’t bear just standing there, couldn’t bear him just standing there. He might have been ignoring me for all I knew, or composing in his head to pass the time. “ _Please, god._ Elio, please, move. I can’t…please move, _please._ Fuck me. I need you to fuck me, please. Elio."

The words spilled from me and once they began I couldn’t stop them. He obliged, flexing his hips once or twice before fucking me in earnest. 

I was too close to the edge as it was, so when he hit my prostate directly, I tipped over. The orgasm ripped through me and I whited out for a moment. I don’t remember if I screamed or not. When I became aware of my surroundings again, he was still fucking me. Nailing my prostate with every stroke. It sent shivers of overstimulation through me, making me whimper. 

But he didn’t stop. Instead, he slipped a finger in me alongside his cock, rubbing at my inner walls as he fucked me. I could feel tears prickle behind my eyelids. I couldn’t stand it. It hurt so beautifully that I was going to cry and the humiliation of that was what, ironically, finally caused the tears to spill over. 

My lips parted and my cock started to harden again. He tilted up to glance over my shoulder. “Oh good. You’re hard again. That’s promising.” 

He mocked, throwing my words right back at me. I couldn’t stop the small, punched out sound that that promoted. I sounded absolutely wrecked. 

Finally, after what seemed like hours, his strokes faltered and sped up. He was losing control, but still managing to nail my sweet spot each time. 

He reached around me, not to wrap a hand around my cock and stroke it as I wanted, but to play with me. He rubbed a fingertip over my cockhead, snagging his nail in my slit and this time I did scream when I came. He wrapped a hand across my mouth, but it was much too late for that. The clenching of my ass muscles must have tipped him over, because he came hardly two beats after me. 

I collapsed when he released me. I was a mess, shaking with exhaustion and overstimulation, covered in my own cum, his leaking down the back of my thighs. My hole was sore and used. I could feel it every time I so much as shifted. Dinner tonight was going to be hellish. 

I told him so. 

He laughed at me. “Forget dinner. We’ve still got to get home first.” 

I’d forgotten. I’d lost myself in the feel of his body in mine and forgotten that we were both completely bare and facing the two mile walk back. I climbed tiredly to my feet. “I can feel your cum dripping out of my ass, you know.” I told him earnestly, just to see him flush. 

He grinned back me, cheeks red, and shrugged. “You should have thought of that before you stripped me naked in front of all my friends.” He paused a moment. “You know, I bet I could still find my suit, if I tried hard enough.” He glanced over at the patch of reeds. 

I could picture it. Him striding along in his swim suit, fabric protecting his cock and ass both from the sun and the unwanted stares of strangers. Me at his side, exposed to the world and to his hands, whenever he wanted to put them on me. I’d let him. Touch me whenever he wanted. We’d be walking along the old road, maybe by the old woman who shelled beans and he’d reach over and slip his finger back into me, just to feel how wet I still was. He’d snag at the abused rim of my hole and tug gently, making me whimper and maybe beg some more. Maybe a car would drive by, the passengers catcalling and hollering out at me. He would mug for them and maybe grab me and spin my around to show them my ass too. Maybe the car would stop and the strangers would all pile out. Elio would hold my arms as they spanked me and I couldn’t do anything about it. They’d leave me ass red and get back into their car and I’d have to walk the rest of the way, not only naked, but humiliated and aching and crying again. 

I went to help him find his suit.

**Author's Note:**

> Also, in defense of kinks, two things:
> 
> One, there are so many out of character fics in this fandom, i can hardly count them. It's porn. Who cares if it's in character? That's not the point.
> 
> AND more importantly,
> 
> Two, we get nothing of Oliver's sexual interior in the film, or almost nothing. The one time we see him reveal something is when he goes to eat the peach and says "I wish everyone were as sick as you." Other than that, we don't see his desires, not in a personal or intimate way. Because the camera, like the narrator in the book, is Elio. We see Elio's desires: the peach, the bathing suit's smell, Oliver's body, etc. Oliver is, through out most of the movie, an object of Elio's desire. Which is not to say he isn't a a fully formed and elegantly presented character all on his own. He is. I only mean that, we don't know what his kinks are. Maybe he is like Armie and likes aggressive sex or whatever. But Maybe he isn't. Maybe his shyness and timidity that he hides under his gruff Americanisms translate to the bedroom. Maybe he subs. Or maybe his discomfort with Elio's lust, his confusion at his own reactions manifest in the desire to be seen in that discomfort, to be exposed and bare for Elio and anyone else to look at. 
> 
> The thing is, we don't know. We get more of it in the book, but not that much and most of Oliver's emotional or sexual interior comes fifteen years later when they share a drink.


End file.
